


The Lighting-Struck Boy

by Hollysharks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Blackmail, Cruciatus, Draco Malfoy - Freeform, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Scene Rewrite, Suicide, Whump, half blood prince
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 00:22:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17335181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hollysharks/pseuds/Hollysharks
Summary: Draco had no other choice, the Dark Lord had been clear about that. He was to kill Albus Dumbledore, tonight, and for once he would finally succeed. For once Draco Malfoy would no longer be a name to laugh at in this forsaken school.A Rewrite of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince Chapter 27: The Lighting-Struck Tower, better known as the astronomy tower scene. This time told from Draco's POV.





	The Lighting-Struck Boy

Draco couldn’t breathe, whether it was excitement or fear or the fact that his chest had been ripped open a mere few weeks before he couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that he couldn’t breathe and that each stair he raced up drew more and more of it away from him. He waved his wand and cast a quick alohomora under his breath before using his shoulder to rush through the door.

“Expelliarmus!” he shouted, erupting through the door. He watched as the wand spiraled in an arc out of Dumbledore's hand and far out of reach. His eyes darted between the headmaster and the wand, stunned at how easy it had been to disarm him.

“Good evening, Draco,” Dumbledore said calmly.  Draco's hands began to tremble. He didn’t understand how Dumbledore could be so calm when disarmed. He couldn’t stand to look at him. Didn’t he know what was going on? Didn’t he see the mark above his head? Didn’t he know what Potter knew? Draco flinched at the name even in his head. Potter... Potter….Potter…. Shit. The second broom.

“Who else is here?” He asked, fully expecting the savior Potter to jump out from elsewhere in the tower and stop him. Perhaps truly killing him this time unlike before.

“A question I might ask you. Or are you acting alone?”

“No,” he said. “I’ve got back up. There are Death Eaters in your school tonight.” He spit the words at Dumbledore. His arrogance flaring. There was nobody else here, or else they would have come up. Dumbledore was wearing a mask, just like him.

“Well, well,” Dumbledore said, “Very good indeed. You found a way to let them in did you?”

“Yeah,” Malfoy said, excitement boiling over so powerfully he was panting. He jabbed his wand forward and laughed. “Right under your bloody nose and you never realized!” How pathetic, that Dumbledore, the great and wise Dumbledore, feared by even the Dark Lord himself, was fooled so easily. Draco was quick and happy to explain to Dumbledore how he’d done it. The vanishing cabinets, the necklace with Katie Bell, the poison with Ron. How he’d stop at nothing to complete his task. How he was proud to complete his task. How he was proud to fulfill his honor.

Yet as Draco gloated to Dumbledore, the headmaster continued to smile and nod, as if he was proud. As if Draco was telling him about his study habits or how he’d scored all O’s on his O.W.L.S. It made him sick.

“Enough! I - I’ve got a job to do.”

“Well, then, you must get on and do it, my dear boy,” Dumbledore said with a smile. Draco opened his mouth, but slowly shut it again. He couldn’t stand that cursed smile. It was a twist of a blade in his stomach.

“Draco, Draco, you are not a killer.”

“How do you know!” Draco said at once, taking a step closer. “You don’t know what I’m capable of,” he continued, his voice more forceful and raw “You don’t know what I’ve done!”

“Oh, yes, I do,” Dumbledore said mildly.

“No!” Draco shouted back. “I’ve… I’ve killed to get this far. You won’t be my first!” Draco's mind flashed back to the vanishing cabinet and the small white dove. She had been part of a pair, and Draco had taken her away. Of course, it hadn’t been him who snapped her neck, but it may as well have been. He had sent her to her death, and wasn’t that as good as murder? “I’ve been working on it all year, and tonight-” Draco was cut off by Dumbledore letting out a yawn.

“Perhaps you ought to get on with the job them hm? You don’t really need any help … I have no wand at the moment … I cannot defend myself.” The two of them stood silently staring at each other, and Draco cursed himself for being so pathetic.

“Hm. Well, there is little time, one way or the another,” Dumbledore began. “Let us discuss your options, Draco.”

    “My options!” Draco cried out. “Isn’t it a little late for you to be trying to step in and save me as you did with Potter? I’m not some pathetic orphan who needs saving you insolent fool. I’m standing here with a wand, and I’m about to kill you.” Draco began to shake, a habit which he had developed after his father began using the cruciatus as a means of behavior correction.

    “I… I haven’t got any options!” he shouted, attempting to use the power of his voice to steady himself. To reassure himself that what he was doing was what must be done. He felt the color drain from his face. “I’ve got to do it! He’ll kill me! He’ll kill my whole family!”

    This time it was Dumbledore who stepped closer to him, extending a hand out to the boy who so clearly threatened to kill him. “I can help you, Draco.”

    “No, you can’t,” Draco said, closing his eyes and using his non-wand hand to fist at his hair. “He told me to do it or he’ll kill me. I’ve got no choice.”

    “Come over to the right side, Draco, and we can hide you more completely than you can possibly imagine. What is more, I can send members of the Order to your mother tonight to hide her likewise. Your father is safe at the moment in Azkaban... when the time comes we can protect him too... come over to the right side, Draco... you are not a killer…”

    Draco stared at Dumbledore, and for a moment he considered it. What it’d be like to be protected for once instead of shoved into the center of the playing field like a pawn in some distorted chess game. How nice it’d feel to be the one protected by Dumbledore for once. His mother would be safe. His father would be safe. They could sit out this disgusting fight and live to see another day free from the weight of The Dark Lords regime. All he had to do was take his hand.

    “I-” Draco began his wand lowering, but he was cut off by the sound of rushing footsteps behind him. He quickly backed away from Dumbledore and threw his arm up again. The weight of the wand now heavy in his hand. Four black cloaked figures flooded around Draco, each of them cooing and praising him for his hard work so far. The words were like vipers in his ears.

    “Dumbledore wandless, Dumbledore alone. Well done, Draco, well done.” Amycus jeered, clapping Draco on the back so suddenly he almost fell forward. The sudden impact knocking him back into his reality. That’s right, he had Dumbledore cornered. He was fulfilling the orders sent to him by the dark lord himself. He didn’t need Dumbledore's protection. He could protect his family on his own. No, he wasn’t doing this to protect them. He was doing this because he wanted to. He wanted to protect the pureblood line. To restore the wizarding world and Hogwarts to its former glory. To be the hand which brought forth the future of purity.

    “Is that you, Fenrir?” asked Dumbledore.

    “That’s right,” rasped the other. “Pleased to see me Dumbledore? You know how much I love kids I couldn’t resist a feast such as tonight.” He chuckled. “So many bloody options, it’s an overflowing menu.”

    “Am I to take it that you are attacking even without the full moon now? This is most unusual… you have developed a taste for human flesh that cannot be satisfied once a month?”

    “That’s right,” said Greyback. “Besides, what’s a few more werewolves on our side hm? It’s a win-win between me and the Dark Lord. He receives soldiers and I…” He smirked, although it wasn’t happiness on his face but pleasure. A familiar pleasure which brought bile to Draco's mouth.

     “Shocks you, that, does it, Dumbledore? Frightens you?” Greyback continued to taunt.

    “Well, I cannot pretend it does not disgust me a little,” said Dumbledore. “And, yes, I am a little shocked that Draco here invited you, of all people, into the school where his friends live...”

“I didn’t, I didn’t know he was going to come -” Draco said. A win-win with the dark lord? Surely Fenrir wouldn’t attack fellow purebloods? Quickly his mind raced to the Slytherin common room. How many of his friends sat in there completely clueless as to what was going on in the tower. Of course, they’d find out, and when they did they’d be so proud of him. Of course, they would be proud of him, he’d done the ultimate task. He had fulfilled the wishes of the Dark Lord himself. He’d killed Dumbledore. He’d brought death eaters into the school all on his own. Perhaps, accidentally, he’d killed a few students as well.

    The thought flew through his mind like a bullet train. Quickly, it collided with the cool facade Draco had built and he began to collapse. The voices around him faded into white noise as reality slowly dawned on him. This wasn’t in his control anymore. These weren’t school games to play in the yard. This wasn’t joking around with Crabbe and Goyle or hell even simply cursing at Potter. This wasn’t even just about Dumbledore. This wasn’t about losing points, it was about lives. He felt his wand falter.

This was a war. A war which he had started. A war he was starting. A war where when the dust settles, there will be endless blood on his hands. Every witch hunted down, every wizard murdered, every child's life snuffed out could be traced back to here. Back to now. Back to him. But, didn’t they deserve it? The same filthy mudbloods who, who. Who had nothing. Who had done nothing. They had simply existed.

    Draco had failed. No matter what he did he had failed. He had failed his father by being a traitorous coward just as he was. He had betrayed his mother by taking the mark and serving the Dark Lord in her name as if that's what she wanted for her son. He looked at his hands. That’s all he was. No assassin, no killer, no dark wizard. He wasn’t a force to be reckoned with. He wasn’t a name which would be celebrated or honored. He was the son of a Malfoy, the sole heir to the family name. No, not an heir, a disgrace.

    “We’ve got a problem, Snape, the boy doesn’t seem able,” Amycus said, the mention of Snape bringing Draco back to reality. He hadn't even noticed the professor come onto the tower.

    “No.” Draco insisted, taking another step forward. “For once, for once I won’t fail.” For once his voice didn’t tremble, his arm raised solid and firm. “I can’t fail. Not anymore” He pushed through the Death Eaters who had circled around him, and strode around the center of the tower. He stood in front of Dumbledore.

    “I want to do it where you can see. I want you to see me. Look at me, Look at me!” he shouted.

    “Draco…” he whispered softly, and for the first time in the evening, Dumbledore was pleading. The tower fell silent.

    “You don’t know… You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this. How long I’ve spent thinking about how good it would feel.” He let out a small hiccup of a laugh. “I’ll be free after this. I’ll be free of it all. No more of Father looking down on me and comparing me to some forsaken Mudblood. No more of Voldemort doubting my strength and threatening me. No more Potter breathing down my neck and blaming every mistake on me.” Draco began to laugh, truly began to laugh.

     “It’ll feel good, won’t it. Death I mean?” Draco asked, his eyes burning into Dumbelors. The two now standing nearly nose to nose. Draco's wand pressed hard against Dumbledore chest.

    “Draco....please…”

“And won’t it be so wonderful,” Draco whispered to the old man. “To not be a failure anymore.” Draco raised his other arm out, but no spell fell from his lips. Instead, he simply took a single step back. For a moment he seemed to hang suspended in the air beneath the shining skull, and then he slowly fell backward, like a bird with a broken wing who knew it could never fly, into the darkness of the night.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time publishing something more angsty! I really love reading angst so I hope I've done an ok job. Please let me know what you think!


End file.
